


i’d want this when i’m not high

by watfordslarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, M/M, Top Louis, Weed, high, larry - Freeform, photographer, singer - Freeform, stylinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watfordslarry/pseuds/watfordslarry
Summary: He's got a face full of trouble as he moves closer. It makes Louis nervous. And intrigued. Because when he lowers to sit on Louis' lap he can't find the strength to push him off.where Harry awkwardly meets Louis through Zayn, and they both can’t hold back when they’re this close.





	i’d want this when i’m not high

He doesn't normally talk to people other than friends or band mates after a show. Jeff is a bit uptight with him and what he does afterwards as it is. As much as Harry could bat his eyes and get himself a free drink, he'd be caught by Jeff before even getting out there.

"Let me snag a beer," Harry tugs on Jeff's sleeve. He does his best at annoying him when he can. He never breaks.

"Absolutely not. Anne'll kill me," he doesn't even look up from his phone.

Harry scoffs, "I'm legal! The other guys are already out drinking!" he swings his bag around his shoulders and drags the mic set in a case behind him.

Jeff calls after him, "But _you_ have class tomorrow!" Harry rolls his eyes. He can survive being hungover for one class.

He pushes the door open with his side, but runs into someone before he can nudge his way out, "Oh," the door falls heavy against the man's back, pushing him forward. He grabs onto Harry's shoulders as both of them try not to fall, but being the way he is, Harry trips over his own feet anyway.

Zayn, the drummer, has perfect timing, really. He walks in as the boy scrambles to get up. He bends down to help him despite having his hands swatted away. "Man, you can't be in here."

The guy leans the knocked over guitar against the couch, "Just came to see how you're doing," Zayn's head snaps up at that, and his face lights up when seeing the visitor.

"Louis!" he goes in for a hug, all the while Harry stands unable to get through the blocked door. He just wants to leave and go cuddle up in bed, but the more he stands there watching Zayn and Louis, the more he notices how hot he is. He clears his throat.

Zayn has learned to ignore him sometimes, but Louis looks over. He gives a smile, happy and bright. "Sorry. I'm Louis."

Harry shakes his hand, "Harry," he doesn't want to let go of Louis' touch, but lets the handshake end before it gets weird.

Louis nods. Harry catches him giving a not so subtle look up and down, but he jerks his thumb behind his shoulder once he’s caught, "I uh, I take it you're Harry Styles on the sign out there?"

He tries to play it cool, but the blush on his cheeks defy him, "That's me. Um, did you see us play?"

But he only shakes his head, "No- well, I tried. Zayn told me you guys were playing this place, but I came in right afterwards, I'm afraid."

"Harry's our lead singer. He's quite the performer," Zayn gives him an appreciative nod.

"Wow, after all this time I've _finally_ gotten a compliment," he jokes, smiling when Zayn playfully shoves his arm. He tries changing the subject. "What do you do, Louis?" his name feels so good on his lips. He wants to know what his mouth feels like.

"Photographer," he says, but then makes a face. "Well- kind of also a free lance writer. I do the occasional article for magazines or a newspaper that I've got contacts with-"

"Which although successful, his photos are _amazing_ ," Zayn gives his friend a look. "Which is why he should do some shots or write about us and get our name out there," he elbows Louis, who laughs.

"I said I'll think about it," he pushes him back. "You're lucky I even came to visit you tonight, you twat."

It's fine, really, but is there a way to ask this stranger to come watch him play without sounding desperate? Unfortunately for him, no.

* * *

 

The next time he sees Louis, he's up on the little stage, barely two feet high. He doesn't expect him to be there, especially with it not even being at the same place. He doesn't see Zayn smirking at his reaction.

They start a song called Stockholm Syndrome, Zayn on drums, and Niall on guitar. He can't take his eyes off of Louis, even when he meets his gaze. "Who's that shadow holdin me hostage I've been here for days," he fixes both hands around the mic. "Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away," he breaks off to let Niall take over the next line, cocking his head when Louis gains a smirk.

What the fuck is that for? He shouldn't be amused by their performance, he should be intrigued. By Harry. Or at least that's what he wants him to be.

"Oh! Baby look what you've done to me- Oh! Baby look what you've done now- Oh! Baby I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way," he smirks and pulls the mic from the stand. He can feel the sweat on his forehead. They're already halfway through the set.

Jeff doesn't like when he does it, but he's got all buttons except for the bottom one undone, showing his tattoos in all their glory. And the ones on his arm aren't concealed either with how sheer the shirt is.

He leans an elbow on Niall's shoulder, "Who's this man that's holding your hand and talking about your eyes. Used to sing about being free but now he's changed his mind!" he adds a little note change, letting Niall go to sing the next line, but jumps in for the next one with a straight stare at Louis. "But my Stockholm Syndrome is in your room."

Louis shifts in his seat. It's a subtle move, but the look of satisfaction on Harry's face tells him it wasn't anything but intentional.

He sticks around for the rest of their performance, but once they're done and all packed up he gets stolen by Zayn for what feels like forever. It isn't until Zayn says he's going to get a drink with Niall that he finds the boy in their back room of the club.

Harry blinks, cocking his head, "Louis?" It doesn't even occur to him that he's high in the presence of someone who can potentially get his name out there _somewhere_. Small chance in that now.

Louis closes the door behind him. He slides his hands into his pockets, nice and cool. He's wearing jeans this time instead of the dress pants he met him in before for whatever reason. "You did good out there," he nods.

He sits up in his seat, "You saw me play?" he wipes an eye. "I'm not that high, I promise. I'm a pro. I don't always get high right after- or at least still at the venue," he says.

"Yeah. Quite the performer, you are," he looks at him intently.

Harry takes another hit, and breathes out his name, "Louis."

"Yes?"

His face falls confused, "What?"

The prominent red in his eyes goes against his "not that high" claim, but Louis brushes it off. He smokes weed with friends as long as he's not the one supplying, he can't judge. "You said my name? Were you going to say something?"

He looks unbelievably lost, but after a minute his face brightens, "Something," he grins like it's an accomplishment. When Louis doesn't answer he sighs. "You're very attractive, Louis. Very very. Mr. Tomlinson."

Once again, it takes way too long for him to give any type of response. Because what really do you say back to that? To a stoned nineteen year old who doesn't know what he's saying?

Louis tilts his head up, and crosses his arms, "Come over here, Harry," he does it almost on instant, but just stands there. "You can sit," Louis can't help but smile. He's like a baby dear.

"Yeah?" Harry smirks. He's got a face full of trouble as he moves closer. It makes Louis nervous. And intrigued. Because when he lowers to sit on Louis' lap he can't find the strength to push him off. And he's only met him once more before.

"What're you doing?" he's wants to dive right in, but instead takes the joint from his fingers and give it a hit. He blows it back in Harry's face.

"Taking a seat," Harry slides his hands under Louis' shirt, cool fingers setting his skin on fire.

Louis raises his eyebrows, "That so?" Harry nods. "You're being a bit bad."

Harry looks up at his face with a devilish smile, "Yeah?" he bites his lip. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Louis' definitely fucked.

He's a bit high himself when he sets out the joint, "What do you _want_ me to do about it?"

And okay, if Harry wasn’t high he wouldn't be saying any of this. He'd definitely still be sitting on Louis' lap, but getting him to talk dirty? Not normally on their second meeting.

Actually, fuck that. This is Louis Tomlinson he's talking about. The most gorgeous person he's seen. After stalking his social media for a bit, he definitely would do it all sober minded.

"I'd _like_ for you to take me home. But you probably won’t let that happen," he starts on the buttons of Louis' shirt, as his is already undone. He can feel Louis twitch under him, and smirks.

"Jesus Christ," Louis takes Harry by the neck and pulls him down. He's not surprised at all by it, and his lips are softer than anyone would have imagined.

Harry's fingers twist and curl in Louis' hair. They're chest to chest, and his foot is going numb from sitting on it, but he doesn't care. He wants to kiss Louis so long that his lips go numb. Because he does this thing with his chin, tilting it and slotting their mouths together so nicely.

Harry leans forward when Louis drags his lips down his neck, "We _can_ get out of here if you want," Harry nods, but it's not until Louis' hickey is raw and sensitive and he's holding onto his hips for him to snap out of it. He jumps up and grabs his phone.

"Let's go," he gives a dashing smile, bright and lively, and drags Louis through the club by the hand. The cool air hits them when they get outside. "Do you know your way around here?" Louis shakes his head. "Okay, me neither."

They look at each other for a while, and Harry breaks it with a laugh, "Where's your car!"

"Down a block," he points one way, but goes the other. He definitely took more hits than he thought.

"If you carry me, I'll blow you," he's got his hands on Louis' shoulders from behind, but as soon as the words leave his lips Louis turns and lets Harry hoist himself up on his back.

"Wait!" Harry reaches out to the side as they pass a McDonalds. "Fruit punch is my ultimate drink," he whispers it, like it's not suppose to leave his mind. And the most surprising part is that Louis actually goes in. No one questions that he has someone on his back. Customers are customers.

"Let's go!" Harry runs out with his drink, forgetting all about riding on Louis' back. And when they eventually get back to Louis' his drink is left in the car from how feverishly they both are as they try getting inside.

Louis pushes him against the wall, hands on his hips and latching his lips to his neck. Harry tangles his fingers in his hair. He lets out a whine. "Take me to bed, Louis," he breathes.

* * *

 

Harry doesn't expect to wake up in someone else's bed, but even more so alone. He sits up with a jolt. He checks under the covers first thing, sighing when seeing he had pants on. They're not his own, but it's better than nothing.

"Hey," he gasps, turning with a hand over his chest.

"Jesus, you scared me," he relaxes, but then tenses again. “I should... go. It’s already ten and I’m literally taking up your whole bed,” he scrambles to get up, panicking until Louis rushes to put his hands on his shoulders.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have even brought you home if I hadn’t been okay with you sleeping in and taking up my bed,” he smiles. “Which you really didn’t do. Quite the cuddler though,” he rubs his thumb against his skin, and lets a hand fall to Harry’s wrist. Harry can feel the heat on his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Never said I didn’t like it,” he winks, and Harry’s blush deepens. He takes a second. “I... I mean, I can take you home if you want to leave- I totally get it. I just- I liked having you over. Not-Not just for what we did last night, I- in _general_. I liked having you over in general. You weren’t a bother... At all,” it’s a mess, really, and he’s sure he fucked up somewhere along the way, because Harry’s just staring st him.

What Louis doesn’t know is that Harry’s trying to decide whether to say something back or not. If he talks he’s going to make a fool of himself. No doubt. But if he doesn’t then he’s going to end up sending he wrong message and making everything awkward. So instead he kisses him, which he hopes doesn’t do the same thing. He pulls away. “Sorry, I probably have morning breath,” he covers his mouth.

Louis smiles, moves his hand, and kisses him again, “S’not bad. But if you’re weird about it I’ve got a spare toothbrush,” he talks against his lips, and laughs when Harry nods.

“Be quick. My tongue should be in your mouth instead right now,” he stands against the door frame of the bathroom, laughing when Harry nearly chokes at his words. He spits after a split second, wiped his mouth, and pulls Louis to him.

“Can’t just say stuff like that,” he talks in between kisses. “Almost choked to death,” he ignores Louis pulling his lip to get him to stop talking. “How’d you like to spend your Sunday at the hospital?” he gasps, pulling away completely. “It’s Sunday!”

Louis shakes his head, “I... do you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes!- _Fuck_ , can you take me home?” he rushes to grab his clothes from the night before.

“Yeah, course,” he throws shoes and a beanie on, and tosses a jumper to Harry.

Turns out he doesn’t live far, and has Niall as a roommate. He’s surprised he hadn’t ever met him before with being friends with the blonde, but as long as he met him at some point.

Harry stands outside his car door, fingers curling over the open window. He wants to invite him in. Kick Niall out for the night and have him stay over, but he’s got plans with his mum today. She comes first.

“Thanks for last night,” Louis smirks at that. “Shut up,” he laughs.

“Glad you didn’t run off right away,” he shoots back.

Harry smiles, “Glad you stopped me,” his nose is red from the cold.

Louis leans up to kiss him one more time, “If I asked for your number what are my chances of getting it?”

Harry backs off of the car, “Check your phone and you’ll have your answer,” he grins, mischievous little thing, and shoves his hands into the pockets of Louis’ jumper. It’s small on him, he loves it.

He’s already up by the door by the time Louis gets out of the car and jogs up, “Can I take you out?” it startles Harry a bit, but he turns nonetheless.

He pauses on turning the key, “Only if you come see us play again,” he teases, but Louis nods anyway.

“Consider it done.”


End file.
